Disclaimer

I have this weird belief that my wife absolutely hates.  Her hatred doesn’t mean I must change my beliefs, so I’m allowed to keep most of them if I agree to a lifetime of eye rolls.  Done!!  In this case, it’s pretty trivial.  I don’t think curse words are real things.  We humans just decided at some point that “damn” and “hell” and “ass” were too bad to use in school even though they were all used in the Bible, that holy grail of bound knowledge that began the lineage of pretty much every law in the land. 

But then we added more, and then more, and then the n-word was basically a curse word if white people said it but totally fine if black people said it.  Nowadays they can say some words on cable but not the networks.  Even the MPAA has no idea what words can be said in what movies.  And if you use Urban Dictionary, you can make a case that basically any and every word in the English language is a curse word.  And now some of the same words that are offensive to some people are viable options to keep on the list of possible baby names for other people.  It’s just gotten stupid at this point.  Let’s just all agree that they don’t exist and then nobody can be offended by made-up words anymore.  Deal? 

In saying that, however, I am a high school math teacher, and yes, I absolutely hear much, much worse than anything referenced in the above paragraph every day by the end of first block.  (And they do it without repercussions or discipline, because you can’t suspend the entire school.)  But in the spirit of professionalism and a love and commitment to that profession, the obviousness of my words in this post will be masked by some trivial alterations along the way. 

And yes, I am fully aware that intelligent writing and intelligent speech don’t require the use of those aforementioned “curse” words, but I’m allowed to think they are fun and sometimes appropriately placed.  And sometimes, it’s just necessary to get my point across.  In this case, I’m only getting the point across to myself, mainly because I often need to yell at myself, and that is, in fact, necessary at times.  If I’m having a rough day, I need something like this to knock me on my ass and remind me why sobriety is so fuching amazing.  So if you are offended by misspelled words, please stop reading now.  If you fuss about it later, you’ve been warned, so I kindly would ask your future offense to shut up.

End of Disclaimer.  On to article.

This is a list of 10 thoughts that have dominated my mind since well before I started trying to rebuild my life, and they just won’t go away.  Time, freedom, family, job, or even the occasional feeling of confidence has not shaken them.  They remain, even fifteen months after my days of active addiction ended.  I already know I’m insecure and timid and my opinion of myself is bad and I joke around just so I don’t have to acknowledge anything serious and I can be a real asshole because it’s been trained in me that it’s necessary sometimes to help save whatever image I have left of myself.  I already know these things.  I’m already addressing them in my own way.  But I know EXACTLY what’s wrong with me and I know all the hackneyed ways (and the creative, off-the-wall, and stupid ways) of fixing it all.

To me, it’s like going to a counselor.  I’m a smart guy.  I’ve done some idiotic things and essentially lived a life of idiocy for twenty years, but my IQ is probably above 75 by now (I really don’t know; it could be lower.)

The point is that I would be absolutely blown away if a counselor said something unique and creative to me.  Absolutely shocked.  My wife said I sounded like a pretentious asshole when – during my days of active addiction – she would suggest that I go see a counselor because I probably had things inside me that were never resolved.  I ALWAYS responded by saying, “There is absolutely NOTHING a counselor can say that I don’t already know.”  I still believe that, as pretentious as it sounds.

The reason I believe this is because EVERYBODY that struggles with addiction or depression or anything else that has forced them to stop living has inner dialogue EVERY SINGLE DAY that tells, yells, and describes EXACTLY what they need to do to fix whatever problem is dominating today’s fuched up noggin.  They already know the answer.  They know how to end the addiction, cure the depression, nullify the suicidal thoughts, etc.  Trust me on that.  They talk to themselves inside their own head dozens or hundreds of times a day.  I know I did.  I knew exactly how to fix it all. 

And I guarantee you this is the case with every other addict in the world.  They’re just not willing to follow through on their own advice for some screwed up reason that only they understand.  And most of the time, THEY don’t even understand it.  But the problem with the addict’s mind is that we will hear this assault on our minds all day every day, but we never actually listen to it.  We acknowledge that the voice is right, but it’s not right YET.  We have some more drinking to do before we’re ready to truly listen to this wise, annoying voice.

Here’s an example before I begin the list.  For YEARS, and I mean MANY YEARS, I knew I was an addict and I knew the only way to stop being an addict was to stop fuching drinking.  Now is that so hard to figure out?  Did I need a shrink to tell me that?  Did I need a shrink to try to figure out why I had depression issues that could be leading to an inability to stop?  Hell no.  I knew why I had depression issues.  I also knew quitting and whatever life came after it was going to be a hell of a lot harder than staying right where I was.  Drunk, unhappy, depressed, but comfortable as hell.

So if you will allow me, I’m going to step aside and allow myself to speak to myself rather harshly for the next few minutes.  The smart, devilishly sarcastic and brash person inside me that has been yelling at me for two decades will be my therapist (because I’m the only one I really listen to anyway) and, after being ignored for twenty years, he will let me hold it.  Enjoy.  Or be offended.  Whatever.

And by the way, writing this was therapeutic as fuch!!

The Insecurities in My Noggin

1.  What if people look at me differently when they find out I’m a recovering alcoholic?

Are you fuching serious?  Are you that delicate?  Do you need your mommy to walk around with you holding your wittle hand so the bad people can’t hurt you?  Do you need a wittle princess pacifier?  Is poor wittle Denton afraid that somebody might have a negative opinion of him?

There’s at least a few people that already do, asshole.  You’ve just been so stuck inside your little selfish-as-hell addict bubble for so long you can’t even see that you’ve pushed people away and bailed on obligations and disappointed people because of your drunken irresponsibility.  Who gives a shit if they see you differently?  Hell, maybe by “differently” you might actually run across a few people that like you MORE when they find out.  It’s doubtful, but anything’s possible.  Trump is POTUS, after all.  And your sorry ass got sober.  Halle-damn-lujah.  I was getting fuching sick of being ignored.

Besides, you act like all these people who find out you’ve been harboring these not-so-flattering secrets for twenty years are really just reincarnations of Jesus.  If they want to judge you and think less of you, fuching let them.  They can be assholes like you.  Every last one of them.  I bet somebody is going to judge you that once got busy with some chick in the bathroom of a club and went home with so many crabs crawling on their junk that the state of Maryland had an economic crisis due to a reduced crab population.  

There’s going to be somebody else that judges you that has done some bonkers shit like send a bunch of money to their “cousin” Mahmoudahamamad in some country in Africa that doesn’t exist because Mahmoudahamamad said he had some lottery winnings or some such shit to send them.  And you know what Mahmoudahamamad did with their money?  Ass implants.  Now how proud do you think the person is that bought an African village runway model a new ass?   

What if you knew this wacko embarrassing stuff about those people that are going to judge you?  Would you judge them in return?  Hell yes, you would.  You would laugh your fuching ass off.  You’re finally a damn good guy (mostly,) so you would do that in private, but it’s human nature, dumbass.  Is it right?  Hell no.  But it’s going to happen.  Get over it, Twinkle Toes.  If there’s somebody out there with no skeletons in their closet, it’s because they’re phuching homeless and have no fuching closets.  Mic drop, bitch.

2.  Forever is a long time to be an addict with no active vice.  What if I fail?

Well, let’s see.  You decided to double up on your addictions, so your Beta Club quality dumbass now has the very real possibility of either drinking OR dipping again, so that was well thought out, you fuching idiot.  If you want to throw in sugar for your increasingly fat ass, well, that makes three addictions.  You got addicted to fantasy sports for a little while, too, but you proved to be a failure at that, too, so you had to bail before you lost anymore money, so that pretty much makes four.  

Talk about a ticking time bomb, my god.  I would beg and plead to get out of your damn head before the bomb hits, but I do NOT want to miss that show.  And no, I didn’t answer this question.  It was too stupid to acknowledge.  If you fail, you lose your family, your job, and eventually your life.  Enough said, dumbass.  

3.  Why do I doubt myself so much?

Because you think you’re a failure, blah, blah, shit.  Shut up, assface.  Do you not think that 90% of all the people on this planet doubt themselves?  If they have no inner dialogue that allows themselves to see all the sides of their decisions, even the doubts, then I guarantee they’ve made ten times the mistakes that you’ve made.  Do you not think Right Said Fred had some doubts over what shirt to wear in the video for “I’m too Sexy?”  He had to.  If he was going to claim to be sexier than a damn shirt, it had to be a VERY mediocre looking shirt.  And he failed, dammit.  He should have doubted himself more.  That fishnet shirt was incredible.  Fred was no match for that shirt.  The shirt was FAR sexier than Fred. 

And do you not think Vanilla Ice had some doubts before he ended the greatest song in history with “Word to your mother?”  You don’t think he said to himself, “What about the people out there listening who have no mothers?”  You bet your ass he asked himself that.  I bet he just decided that even those people without mothers would remember theirs fondly, so he went for it.  And what did he get for it?  Greatest song in history.  Makes not a damn bit of sense, but it’s fuching fantastic.

4.  What if I can’t ever get over, or at least learn to be content with, the guilt, regret, and bad decisions of my past?

You know time travel is fuching science fiction shit, right?  Do you regret asking that question?  Because you should.  Everything you just listed in that question would be totally possible with time travel, but that’s not happening, now is it?  You feel guilty about something you did?  Go find a fuching Deloreon with a flux capacitor.  Let me know how that works out for you.  You have regrets?  Bill and Ted have an excellent fuching phone booth I’m sure they’d let you borrow.  You made some bad decisions, did you, sport?  Well, I didn’t see that movie about Groundhog Day, but you should go watch it and write down all the shit you’ve learned because of all those bad decisions. 

These questions are stupid as hell.  You act like you’re the only one who’s ever had problems with guilt, regret, and bad decisions.  Either get your head out of your ass or put your head in it.  I’m just so discombobulated by your stupid questions, I don’t know which one you should do.

How’s this?  You know there’s that step in AA that you refuse to do that talks about how you need to “admit to God, yourself, and another human being the exact nature of your wrongs?”  And then right after that, it says you need to be “entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.”  And then you have to “ask Him to remove your shortcomings.”  This is what you need to do to stop asking this stupid ass question.  Since your hypercritical ass is clearly never going to actually complete these steps, you actually have a good idea right now.  Well, technically I had the idea but I’ll let you keep the credit. 

The point in the steps is to get all that shit out in the open.  Let all the bad stuff pour out like steaming piles of rancid shit.  Well guess what, numbnuts?  That’s why you decided to write about this.  Now shut the hell up and just let time do what time was designed to freaking do.  Keep writing and loving and living and all that other trite crap you get from those inspirational quotes you seem to love so damn much and just let time take care of the guilt and regret and shit.

5.  I have all these dreams now, of places I want to go and the person I want to become.  What if they don’t come true?

So you’re dreaming again, is that what you’re telling me?  You went 20 years getting farther and farther away from goals and dreams – hell, you even stopped having remotely good ideas – and you want to know what happens when these fantastic new dreams don’t come true?  Well here’s what you do. Inevitably, something in your future will not go as you planned it.  When that happens, you should first go take a shit just to clear your mind. (wait for it……)  Then, with a clear head, go kiss your fuching wife and hug your kids and know you just touched the only dreams in your life that actually matter.  Mic drop again, bitch.

6.  What if I’m not a good enough writer/networker/website builder to be a successful blogger?

Well since I’m the smart one of this delicate duo, allow me to back this train up a little.  I’m pretty sure you told me that you wanted to start blogging because you needed to write about your little journey as a sober man, correct?  You knew writing about it would do you some good, right?  You said that if even one person got sober and turned their life around because of you, it was worth it, remember?  I think you even said that even if you aren’t responsible for somebody getting sober, maybe the words you’ve written will KEEP somebody sober or help the spouse of an alcoholic better understand the person they married.  It’s a very noble premise.  Why be ashamed of the man you were for 20 years, right?  Take that bad shit and do some good shit with it.

And now let me inform you of a little something, idiot.  Did you know that there are 470 new websites created EVERY MINUTE in this world?  A pretty fair number of them are everyday Joe’s and Josephine’s just like you that think they want to blog about their super awesome, super important lives.  Most of them will get three people to read their super amazing blog and those three people will start avoiding that super amazing new blogger like a plague of flying diarrhea because their blog sucks and they don’t want to read another damn word. 

They might actually move to another state to get away from them.  They don’t want to read one more idea or article about how to use glow-in-the-dark tinsel and recycled wind chimes to decorate at Christmas, and transplanting their family is a viable alternative to the hideous “Christmas Chime” they will get for Christmas this year.

And yes, I just came up with “Christmas Chime.”  It might be brilliant.  I can even hear the jingle on the commercial for “Christmas Chimes.”  “Christmas Chime is here.  Happiness and Cheer.  Fun for all.  The Children Call.  Their Favorite Chime this year.”

Anyway, off topic.  Now, think about the kids you teach every day.  Close your eyes and really think about them.  Cell phones have rendered their ability to write coherent sentences hopeless.  And think about reading all the posts on Facebook every day that make you cringe.  Actual grown humans don’t know the difference between to and too.  The sanctity of the English language in this country is refueling its handbasket with hashtags and text language at a Sheetz station somewhere between here and hell.  You could literally use incorrect punctuation one hundred percent of the time and start every sentence with multiple verbs and you’ll still be a better writer than half the people in the world.  You’ll be fine.  You’re doing good.  I promise.

7.  How am I going to respond when people give me negative comments on any of my thoughts, blogs, articles, or whatever I call the stuff I write?

Come back over here and get some inspiration by reading how your better half responds to your stupid ass questions.  Then just channel that awesomeness and go respond.  You also have sarcasm and self-deprecation on your side, too.  Dole all of that out and then insult their mom, child, spouse, or dog.  All of them at the same time would be best, actually.  Challenge them to a fight, too.  It shows maturity.  You should probably go in armed if you take that route, however.  Best of luck.  I mostly hope you don’t die.

8.  What if my wife receives a negative reaction to my blog?

I get the impression that your wife can handle herself.  She handled your drunk ass for several years.  She scared the shit out of you more times than you’re willing to admit.  That’s a tough ass bitch you got at your house, brother.  I don’t think you have to worry about her at all.  Now go rub her damn feet.

9.  What if my kids get bullied at school because their father is an alcoholic?

You know what I like about you, Denton?  It’s only one thing, so don’t get all cocky like you’re waiting for a list of superlatives.  No, the one thing I like is what you’ve said to your daughter for all these years.  “If somebody bullies you,” you say to her, “and you punch them in the face, I will take you on a trip somewhere.”  That’s just preposterous and fantastic at the same time.  I can’t add anything more than that.  It’s just incredible.  I love it.

The problem is that it’ll never happen.  That’s good for you because it’s cheaper this way, but that just won’t happen.  And your son is tiny so far, so I just can’t see that happening with that little shrimp either.  But you’ve got one other thing going for you.  You have ME in your head, which means you have the ability to teach them the art of scathing sarcasm.  Your daughter is already coming along nicely with this.  She just needs some practice and confidence.  In other words, they’ll be just fine.  She will handle her business because she’ll learn to say something like, “So I’m supposed to feel sad and embarrassed that I am super proud of my dad for admitting his faults and trying to be a better person?  Am I also supposed to feel angry because a cancer patient was cured and now volunteers at the hospital?”

10.  Once and for all, why are we here?

I have not one fuching clue.